


The Day I Died Was the Best Day of My Life

by GuardianofFun



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Drowning, M/M, Pining, drowning malcolm reed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianofFun/pseuds/GuardianofFun
Summary: What had started as a rather routine day alone planet side for Malcolm Reed, soon became one of the best walks he had been on. Trip Tucker, a beautiful forrest, and hardly any work. Then, a pond, a drop and a lungful of water.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlyKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyKat/gifts).



> My first foray into Star Trek fanfics! Forgive me for this please - it is both entirely self indulgent Malcolm torture, and also not very great. But I was inspired by the awesome AlyKat's fics (which you should totally go and read!!) to give it a go, and after hearing we both share a fondness for messing with the poor security chief, I wanted to gift this to them :D 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Like so many other misadventures, this one started on a distant planet on a not-quite-an-away-mission, but exploration nonetheless. The Enterprise had come across an M class planet, and while uninhabited by sentient life, preliminary scans were bringing up some astounding images. There had been a moment of silence on the bridge as the first results of the scans appeared onscreen; shots of rolling hills in a hundred shades of violet, dotted with delicate flora in the brightest white and deepest greens. The sky, the lightest periwinkle blue, was decorated with wisps of pastel pink clouds. Even Malcolm couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face at the pictures the probe had taken. He wondered briefly if Travis was itching to go down and explore - he had seen images the ensign had shared from his childhood, and he had quite the eye when it came to taking the perfect picture. No doubt the young man could capture this planets beauty much better than their unmanned machine.

Of course, there were hoops to go through first, but after a few hours in orbit there were rumours flying through the decks of shore leave, a brief reprise from the recycled air they had been breathing for three months straight now. Four days in orbit, Archer had reasoned was enough time to properly explore this planet, which really meant everyone had two days off, provided you managed to return with reports in hand. The excitement on board was contagious, from the crewmen working night shifts right up to the Captain and Porthos. Even T’Pol seemed interested in getting off the Enterprise, though when questioned it was scientific research into local plant life that beckoned her to board the shuttle pod. 

The science officer had managed to get onto the first shuttle down to the planet surface, and Malcolm would have been on it with her, along with Trip and Travis, but Phlox had caught him and hauled him into sickbay for a hundred and one shots and anti-histamines. Well okay, maybe more like two hyposprays but they were accompanied by a ten minute lecture on local wildlife and a PADD full of trees that might set him off. 

“Thank you doctor, but I was in the Scouts,” he said with a light smile “I know which trees I shouldn’t be climbing.” Phlox grinned back at him, pushing the PADD into his hands as he left sickbay. “I’m sure you do Lieutenant, but all the same I’d rather you kept an eye out, I’ve got enough work today without having to repair our armoury officer.” 

Malcolm chuckled to himself as he headed towards the launch bay, a good natured laugh at the doctors expense - he had enough drugs circulating his body most days to combat all of his damn allergies, he doubted another batch would change much, but it was nice to know the doctor cared. Turning a corner, his feet moving automatically around the ship he knew like the back of his hand, Malcolm let his mind wander for a while. He had stayed on duty as long as necessary - ensuring security onboard was tight as ever in his absence, despite his assessment of the mission being that it was fairly low risk anyway - and had his best team working on rotation while he was away. 

Contrary to what the rest of the crew seemed to think of him - as he had been told by Commander Tucker many times - he was not incapable of relaxing. Malcolm was just proud to say that he put everything into his work and like his weapons, he was always running on maximum efficiency.

When it came to unwinding though, he was perfectly capable of that, thank you very much. It was just that he preferred to do so alone, where he didn’t have to keep up the proper walls between colleagues. Alone was where Malcolm Reed had no walls. His plan for today involved a long walk in what promised to be a quiet forrest, maybe a hike up one of the small mountain ranges that the Captain had said ran across the continent they were to land on. A small bag on his shoulder held lunch and some light reading, in case he had time after collecting data to truly relax, and a cap on his head, Malcolm Reed was ready for another day of exploration.

* * *

 

Stepping out of the shuttle pod, Malcolm waved a hand to the crew members who stepped out with him, all three of whom were heading in the opposite direction. He watched them as they crossed to the hill in front of them, one of the younger ensigns - Eddie Landes from Engineering, if he remembers correctly - turned and gave him another enthusiastic wave. After an unsure second, Malcolm returned the gesture. Small moments like those were (unknown to the armoury officer himself) more frequent now than they had been when their mission had first begun. While fraternising with his crew mates still seemed alien to Malcolm, the mood of the ship, Captain Archer’s somewhat relaxed style of command meant had loosened some of the screws that kept Malcolm’s back perfectly straight even ‘at ease’. 

Anyone else could see the change in attitude, how the lieutenant ate lunch with his team once a week, or how much easier it was to get a smile out of him now. In fact, there was a smile on his face as the shuttle pod behind him prepared to take off again. As he stepped back and watched it rise, the grass around him waving gently, his eyes followed it up. He watched it for a few seconds, one hand raised to keep his cap in place. As he turned back towards the ground, a shape caught his eye.

“Commander?” he asked, surprised to find Trip sitting back on the grass, arms propping him up by his bag as he watched Malcolm with a smile. 

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna notice me,” Trip responded, moving to stand up. Stretching, he crossed the small space between them and clapped a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “You’re losin’ your touch,” he added with a laugh. Malcolm let out a short laugh that was almost drowned out by Trip’s own laugh. His hand stayed where it was, left hanging over Malcolm’s shoulder, and the security chief couldn’t help but hope it stayed there. He inwardly cursed himself; those pesky feelings for his commanding officer had never fully dissipated. 

For a moment though, the hand did stay as Trip nudged Malcolm towards the path he had intended to take. “Shall we?” he asked, smiling around the words. Malcolm wanted to punch something, that damn grin made his heart clench painfully. What had started off as just admiration of the engineer’s good looks had grown into a schoolboy crush that Malcolm found impossible to get rid of. He had long since resigned himself to the fact nothing would ever come of it though and so pushed it down where it stayed, mostly unsuccessfully for some time. Shaking his head and shifting the bag on his shoulder, he started walking towards cluster of trees T’Pol’s maps had shown would lead to the springs. Feeling Trip’s hand fall from his shoulder he looked over at the American and was surprised to see him follow, scooping up his own bag and falling into stride with him. He quirked an eyebrow.

“What? I don’t have any plans for today, and I though seein’ as how you haven’t been to movie night in a while,” Trip said with a small shrug. “It’s been a while since we caught up Malcolm. Can’t an engineer spend a few hours with his security officer?” Malcolm felt his fingers toyying with the strap of his bag.

“Well, I was planning on a quite walk in the woods commander - alone,” he replied and it was hard to miss the falter in Trip’s smile. Unable to handle the way Trip’s lip fell into a small pout, he quickly continued.”- but I wouldn’t mind some company,” That brought back a smile, but he worried it had come across as just a bit too nice, and hurriedly rushed to add “So long as you can stay quiet that is.” 

Trip chuckled, then pressed his lips shut, running two pinched fingers across his lips “My lips are sealed Lieutenant, I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

* * *

 

Trip managed to keep his promise of silence for all of ten minutes, which upon consideration, Malcolm thought was an achievement. Together they strolled across the meadow they had landed in and began making their way through the forrest. Being an uninhabited planet, there were no distinct paths to take so Malcolm was going based on the density of trees, ensuring he disturbed as little as possible, as those years in the scouts had taught him. At one point Trip’s eyes had strayed towards a large stick lying on the ground, but Malcolm stopped the hand that followed with one raised eyebrow. 

A few feet later, Trip sighed. A few feet later, he sighed again. Malcolm, a step ahead, smiled to himself as he called back over his shoulder.

“If you’re bored commander, you could always take some readings,” he offered, and he heard Trip scoff. “Readings of what, lieutenant?” Malcolm had to bite his lip to stop another smile at the way Trip’s voice wrapped it’s way around his rank. That never got old. “There’s nothin’ to scan ‘cept a bunch’a trees,” Trip continued, unaware of the struggling lieutenant. 

“And all the other plant life, not to mention insects and whatever other creatures this planet is home to. There’s even soil,” he said, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. He caught sight of Trip as he looked over his shoulder and had to turn away quickly. The trees and dark leaves ahead made for a somewhat humid atmosphere, and Trip had already pulled down the zipper at his chest a little, tugging at the undershirt to leave more of his neck than usual on display. Not to mention that the way the sunlight fell through the leaves caught at the particularly blonde locks of hair, or how one particular ray had caught on those lips- Malcolm shook his head. Bad sunlight. Bad Malcolm. 

Behind him, Trip laughed, a short deadpan sound. “Ha ha, Malcolm, very observant,” he let out another sigh, this time more like the overdramatic groan of a stroppy teenager. “Nah, I’m bored, let’s do something,” he said, quickstepping his way to Malcolm’s side. The armoury officer watched him expectantly. “Do you have any suggestions, or are we going to have to resort to I-spy?”

“Not funny Malcolm,” he pouted a little as they came to two rather close trees. “Can’t we at least talk?” he asked as Malcolm gently pushed a branch to create enough room for them to pass. 

“I was rather enjoying the quiet,” he returned, stepping forward at the exact same time Trip did. While it seemed Trip didn’t mind, Malcolm had to think very hard about something that wasn’t the commander’s back pressed against his arm, or really the whole right side of him. Trip stopped, catching Malcolm almost off guard and allowing him an excuse to fall into him for a second. He turned to look Malcolm in the eye, and for a second any thoughts of silence left Malcolm’s mind as images of him moaning Trip’s name into the crook of his neck - the neck that hovered just there, right in front of him - filled it instead. 

Trip huffed. “Don’t be so boring Malcolm,” he gave the other man a somewhat gentle nudge to the ribs. “You’ve got those maps right? Find something interesting for us to look at.” Malcolm looked at him with reproach as he slipped a PADD from his pocket.

“You _don’t_ have a map?” Trip shrugged.

“I figured seein’ as I’d be with you I wouldn’t need to bring one.”

“That’s… You were that sure I’d have you tag along?” he asked, one hand pressed against his head in a show of mock-distress while the other opened up the map on the PADD. Trip threw him another one of those earth (or any M class planet for that matter) shattering grins.

“How could you say no to me? I’m adorable,” he said, and for a terrifying second Malcolm almost said _‘I know’._

Instead, he peered down at the PADD in his hands. Trip tried to peer over and read it, but the odd angle they were stood at meant he was reading it upside down, and his head almost entirely filled Malcolm’s line of sight. Then, realising he couldn’t navigate upside down, Trip’s head snapped up, missing Malcolm’s nose by inches. Neither of them flinched though, Malcolm instead trying to regulate his breathing that had picked up and then almost stopped through the quick exchange. Perhaps Trip was as oblivious as he thought, because he didn’t seem to notice the blush creeping up Malcolm’s neck. 

“Well, is there anything?” he asked, but his voice was softer than before now. It took Malcolm a second to find his voice.

“There’s uh… not much in here. We’ve already passed the best route to the mountain range, unless you want to turn back?” Trip’s brow pulled together. “You’re sure there’s nothin’ else? Lemme look,” he held out a hand for the PADD, which Malcolm begrudginly handed over. Trip’s eyes scanned it for a brief second, then found something, prompting a quick “Aha!” as he thrust the PADD back under the Englishman’s nose.

“There’s a pretty cool lookin’ lake ‘bout five miles from here, how d’ya fancy a dip?” Malcolm shifted uncomfortably for a second. This was exactly the opposite of a nice, quiet afternoon. He glanced down at the PADD. Going by the scans it was less of a lake, more like a large pond, surrounded by a waterfall on one side, and rock formations on the other. Maybe there were some interesting minerals he could hunt for while the commander had his swim.

“We’d be there in less than two hours anyways,” Trip added, pointing to the PADD. “Looks like we’re kinda headin’ for it already.”

Malcolm flashed a quick, tight lipped smile. “Lead the way then, Mister Tucker.”

* * *

 

Over the course of the next few hours, Malcolm’s insistence on relative silence was thrown well and truly out of the window. Try as he might, it was impossible to shut the engineer up, and he found that the longer they spoke, the less he wanted him to. Even if the conversation wound up on some ridiculous topic (how they had got to debating which of them Porthos loved more, he had no clue) Malcolm found himself lost in Trip’s words. Sure, they knew each other fairly well and Malcolm was happy to call the commander his friend, but it wasn’t often they had the time for a long, aimless discussion. 

Onboard Enterprise, conversation inevitably ended up on the ship, or their work, occasionally the rest of the crew. During movie nights, they mostly spoke about the film, until Hoshi leaned forward and told them off, taking a handful of their popcorn as punishment. Yet it was rare that they truly spoke about themselves in a way that was not about anything ‘important’, as Trip had insisted learning Malcolm’s favourite colour was.

Work barely came up during their walk, bar the odd stop to scan an interesting looking plant or bug, and those stops became fewer and fewer as they walked along. The thoughts of tomorrow’s shift were lost along with their layers as the sun rose and the space they walked through became warmer. 

By the time they had almost made it halfway, both men’s overalls had been slowly unzipped, tied around their waists to keep them up. Malcolm kept his undershirt of, the first two buttons popped, while Trip had forgone his completely, shoving it haphazardly into his bag. Malcolm tried not to stare at Trip, who had opted for the regulation blue tank top that morning and now inadvertently flaunted the toned muscles of his arms whenever he reached out to move a branch. The top was, Malcolm thought, unnecessarily form fitting for underwear, hugging the commander and leaving very little to the imagination. 

Malcolm had lost himself so much in watching the way Trip’s shoulders rolled as he walked that he missed whatever the engineer had just said. “Malcolm?” he asked again. 

“Uh, yes?” he replied, though it came out as a question more than anything else. 

“Do you wanna stop for some lunch?” he asked, slight worry pinching his face. “Or some water at least, you’re looking a bit flushed - you feeling okay?” Malcolm took a second to respond. Trip’s worry for him made his heart swell and he was sure his face must have turned a darker shade of red. 

“I feel fine, but lunch does sound good.”

* * *

The lake they had found, to Malcolm at least, seemed like more of a pond. It wasn’t particularly large, you could probably have just about fitted the bridge into the space it occupied. Purple grass wrapped one side, while the other nudged up against a hill that had caved in at some point, leaving a pale blue wall of stone exposed, about three meters high. The thinner trees meant for more light, and it shone off the almost opaque rocks and water in a dazzling display of light. It gave the whole area an almost ethereal atmosphere, like something taken from the pages of _Peter and Wendy._ For a moment, Malcolm could almost believe they had wound up in Neverland.

“Wow,” Trip’s voice was soft as he took in the natural beauty of the place. He turned to Malcolm. “Now this is the kinda exploring I signed up for,” he said, taking large strides towards the waters edge. He dropped his bag by the side, then called back to Malcolm who had yet to move from his spot. 

“Ain’t ya hot Mal?” he called as he bent over, tugging at his boots. Malcolm closed the distance between them, keeping his eyes on the waters surface and not the commanders arse as he unlaced his boots. He had no idea how deep the pond was, but that didn’t bother him as he had no intentions of getting in it.

“I’m okay, thank you,” he said, sliding his own bag off his shoulder and pulling out a scanner. While Trip untied his jumpsuit from around his waist, Malcolm began walking around the edge of the pond, scanning for ay water based life forms. 

“Malcolm?” Trip called, and Malcolm spun on his heels. Trip stood, barefoot in nothing but his boxer briefs, his tank top thrown atop the rest of the haphazard pile of clothes. He stood with his hands on his hips, nodding towards the water with a grin. 

“Come on, it’s warm enough we’ll be all dried by the time we have to go,” he said, that charming smile being flashed across the pond between them. Malcolm shook his head, though there was a smile on his own face. 

“I do believe we’re still on duty, _commander,”_ he called back, emphasising Trip’s rank. “I have a job to do,” he said as he continued walking, rounding the edge of the pond that lead to the hill overlooking it. There were vines wrapping their way along the edge of the drop, full of orange berries. He wondered if they might interest Chef, or perhaps Phlox. He headed toward them, his back towards Trip as he reached the top of the hill. “But by all means Trip, have a swim,” he glanced up from the scanner in his hand (the berries were edible!) but found Trip was no longer standing by the edge of the water. Carefully, Malcolm peered over the drop - his stomach clenching at the deep blue of the centre - but Trip had yet to get in.

“Trip?” he asked nobody in particular. As he took a step back, away from the drop, he got his reply.

“Looking for someone, Lieutenant?” Trip asked with a chuckle. Despite his security training, Malcolm couldn’t help but jump, hands flinching and sending the scanner flying. For a split second, the two of them watched with mouths hanging open as the scanner leapt from his hand and flew across the floor.

It ricocheted off of a rock as Malcolm lunged for it. He felt his fingers brush it for a fraction of a second before it slipped past him, over the steep drop. He realised his mistake as soon as he had made it, realised he should have let the blasted thing go and then berated Trip for it but he had already thrown himself to catch it. As one foot came down on the looser pebbles and dirt beneath him, the smaller stones skittered over the edge, taking his foot with them. His arms snapped out in both directions in a desperate attempt to grab onto something but neither found any purchase, the thin vines too weak to hold his weight and so his foot was soon followed by the rest of him. 

This had all happened in less than a second, and as he felt himself fall, a distant part of his brain heard Trip yell out. The rest of him though was focussed on the pond beneath him, growing closer every second. He might have screamed had uncontrollable panic not flooded him, as he came down with an almighty crash. Breaking the surface knocked the air from his lung as he slipped beneath the calm surface. He regretted not checking how deep the pond had been beforehand, but he didn’t have time to even attempt to estimate, as he found himself pulled down, deeper and deeper in what he hadn’t realised were such dark waters. His heart already hammering against his chest, he groped wildly for the surface, convinced he couldn’t have sunk that far yet; ponds were never that deep, right? 

Then a voice in his mind cut through the screaming terror and told him he didn’t need to be deep to drown, this was enough to kill him. He thrashed harder, but his boot were heavy already, too heavy to kick with any real power, and the layers of clothes he was wearing became deadweights under the water. Pockets full of PADDs and spare scanners were like bricks in his pockets and pulled him down faster. His feet and arms were sluggish now, the only feeling in them was one of sharp pain in his left ankle that had cracked painfully as he fell. Every kick felt like it was going to snap it further out of place, so he willed his arms to move as fast as they could.

Underneath the surface it was hard to estimate time, but the ever present burning in his chest told him if he didn’t find air soon this was it. In response, his heart leapt wildly, and without his permission his mouth shot open. The water pushed its way in through his mouth; then it was in his nose and ears, blinding his eyes and now it pushed its way down his throat. Suffocating him, he could already feel the his kicks growing even weaker, his foot screaming in agony now. His arms were moving less and less. His lungs, refusing to obey him any longer, took a deep breath and he felt it in his lungs, this was it, he was going to die here in a stupid pond, on a stupid planet because Trip was being a stupid- he choked on another mouthful of water and felt the cold water seep into his chest. He thought of Trip as the water claimed him. Most people say you see your whole life flash before your eyes before you died, but Malcolm didn’t. He saw Enterprise, saw the Captain and Hoshi, T’Pol and Travis, even Phlox. He saw his security team, the younger crewmen and endings he spent his days with. His vid-calls with Maddie came to mind, her letters. Trip. Trip and that smile of his, that charming accent and handsome face. Trip and his strong arms but gentle heart. 

Visions of Trip swimming through his waterlogged brain, Malcolm barely registered the fact his body had stopped fighting to keep him alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY AN UPDATE
> 
> sorry this took so long? i am a Mess™ 
> 
> i will probably reread this in the morning and find all sorts of mistakes in it but? I think I did okay?
> 
> WARNINGS for injury descriptions and minor swears
> 
> also I know this isn't how you're supposed to CPR anymore but i just... shhh?

Like something out of one of the old slapsticks they sometimes watched on movie night, Trip watched Malcolm lunge, twist and fall from the edge of the drop in quick succession. He hadn’t even seen what had happened, just that he had apparently surprised the security officer, and then in an instant he was gone. Scrambling forward, falling to kneel out over the pond, he called out for Malcolm as the smaller man crashed through the water.

He felt bad, knowing how pissed Malcolm would be at Trip and the fact he was stuck in a soggy uniform. Trip let out a laugh at the thought of Malcolm clambering out, soaked to the bone, probably looking like a grumpy puppy after bath time. Just as his thoughts wandered to the fact that the armoury officer would then have to strip off to his blues if he had any hope of drying off before they returned to the landing site, a sudden wave of terror rippled through him. It took him a moment to figure out what had caused it, before he realised he had been hanging over the edge of the drop for at least twenty seconds now - Malcolm should have reappeared by now.

‘ _Shit’_ he thought, as his brain caught up with his feet, which had already pushed him up to his feet. Years of swimming lessons in the local pool came back with ease, as without a second thought, he dove into the water. The rule about looking before you leap was long forgotten as the need to find Malcolm outweighed any rational train of thought. He broke through the surface with grace, finding the pond to be deceptively deep, eight or nine meters at least.

He snapped his eyes open, thankful at least for the fact it was freshwater. It took him only a few seconds to find Malcolm, pale skin even whiter against the deep blue around him. His gut twisted as he saw him, eerily still as he sank with his arms stretched above him as he had tried to break free. After quickly returning to the surface for the biggest breath he could take, Trip propelled himself downwards, strong arms cutting through the water with ease - the only problem that Malcolm was sinking just as fast. Trying to ignore the voice in his head that counted the seconds Malcolm had been submerged, he kicked even faster until his fingers could brush against Malcolm’s. Both hands shot out and grasped the armoury officer by the wrist, as Trip twisted upwards and kicked for the surface. 

His own lungs burned with effort - Malcolm might be small, but he wasn’t light, and the extra clothes and boots only made it worse. In a climb that seemed to stretch into an eternity, Trip sent up a prayer, sent up a hundred, that Malcolm would be okay. 

' _He has to be okay, this is not the way Malcolm Reed is gonna die. He’ll die in a fiery explosion as he goes on some suicide mission, or in place of a member of his crew, probably winding up alien captors with that sharp wit of his - or in seventy years time, in the arms of someone he loves-‘_ the mantra went round and round in his head, as they came within a meter of the surface. 

One hand still locked tight around Malcolm’s wrist, the other fumbled for his face. Trip’s fingers ran across his nose, brushed past unmoving lips to cross his neck and find his shoulder. Hooking a hand underneath, he pushed Malcolm up ahead of him, letting the Englishman break through first. Gasping for air as he follow suit, and keeping his arms locked tight around Malcolm, he kicked them towards the nearest edge, the deep water beneath them becoming ground underfoot as he clambered out onto dry land. 

Finding himself on his knees, Malcolm pressed to his chest, Trip let out a cry of relief. He tugged them just a small ways further from the cool waters, so they no longer lapped at their feet as he pushed Malcolm onto his back.

He lay, eyes still half open, far too still. Trip threw a hand over his chest, the other to find a pulse somewhere. A string of curses were spat as he found a pulse but no breath. His brain struggled to figure out how long Malcolm had been under, if the water was cold enough to cause hypothermia, how long it would take to get Phlox down and if he remembered any of his first aid training, all at once. He felt his own longs tighten as panic threatened to set in, but Trip forced himself to take a breath, tackle the situation like an engine malfunction. Prioritise.

Acting now on auto pilot more than anything else Trip yanked down on the zipper of Malcolm’s jumpsuit, then tilted Malcolm’s head upwards. He looked down at the face of the man he had been utterly enamoured with for well over a year now, and took a deep breath. Pressing his own lips to Malcolm’s he breathed out, then again, and again. Not at all how he had imagined the first times the locked lips.

‘ _I should’a kissed him in that shuttlepod’_ he thought ‘ _or when he came into engineering the other week, or damn it I should’a kissed him this morning when he let me come with him’_

Placing his hands over his chest, fingers knitted together as they rested atop each other, he began pushing in short, measured movements. He watched Malcolm’ lips for any signs of movement, until they were knocked out of focus by a sudden onslaught of tears he hadn’t known was building. Emotion bubbled through the cracks in his emergency armour, spilling out through the tears that became heavy sobs as his wrists began to protest their overworking. He ran one hand across his face before bending to press his lips once more against Malcolm’s. As he pulled back to once again pump the Englishman’s chest, he caught the ever so quiet wheeze escape from his unmoving lips. Then Malcolm's chest jerked under Trip’s hands, and Trip rushed to push him onto his side as water poured from his lips. 

The tears that fell were suddenly tears of relief, as Malcolm coughed up what looked like half the pond and his lunch. Keeping one hand on Malcolm’s shoulder as he heaved, Trip reached for his uniform, snagging his overalls and tugging it over to them. Yanking at the zipper, he pulled out his communicator. 

As it crackled to life, Malcolm twisted his face towards him and Trip’s stomach lurched. Paler than he had ever seen him before and eyes so glassy Trip doubted he could see him at all, Malcolm looked terrible. It reminded him that even if he was breathing now, it didn’t mean he was out of the woods. Barely holding himself up on trembling forearms, Malcolm spat out another mouthful of water, leaving his voice thin.

“Tr’p?” The engineer gave his shoulder a squeeze. 

“I’ve got you Mal,” he said with a tight smile, not noticing the nickname slip from his tongue as he turned to the communicator.

“Tucker to Enterprise,” he said, schooling his voice into something resembling calm. It obviously hadn’t worked, as instead of the Ensign sat at Hoshi’s station on the bridge, Jonathan answered _,_ concern evident in his voice. Trip could picture him, bent over the ensign’s station as he spoke. “Trip? What’s up?” 

Trip sighed, feeling Malcolm shudder under his gentle touch again. 

“Had a bit of an incident with Malcolm, can you transport us up? I don’t think he’s in any condition t’be moving,” he said, watching Malcolm’s eyes go wide at mention of the transporter. Regardless of any of their opinions on the technology, Trip thought, it was the fastest way to the ship. Faintly through the communicator he heard Jonathan fire off orders, then his voice was clear once again. 

“Stay where you are Trip, we’ll have you up in a few. Phlox’ll meet you there, I’ll see you in Sickbay,” he said, and Trip was grateful he didn’t end the call there. 

“Thanks Captain.” 

“No worries Trip, see you in a few”

* * *

Trip’s head reeled for a moment as he found himself aboard _Enterprise_ not five minutes later. He would never get used to being taken apart and reassembled, and honestly didn’t see how anyone could. As bad as he felt though, Malcolm undoubtedly felt ten times as awful. He glanced down at the man in his arms. Just before Jonathan had told them to ready for transport, Malcolm’s eyes had rolled back and he had passed out. Trip had pulled him up just in time for them to beam up, and now he sat, soaking wet and in nothing but his underpants with the sodden armoury officer in his arms. It might have been funny under any other circumstances, but the serious look on Phlox’ face as he rushed over towards them dampened the mood considerably. Behind him, standing by the transporter console, the captain stood, his face a carefully constructed mask of calm.

A team of medics carefully hoisted Malcolm out of his arms and onto a stretcher, and before Trip could get a word out, they were wheeling him out of the transporter room. Jonathan stepped down from behind the control panel and reached out a hand to grasp Trip’s shoulder, but Trip ducked aside with a small small.

“Not sure you wanna do that Jon,” he said, shaking his head for emphasis, water dropping onto the cold deck plating beneath his feet. The captain nodded, and instead pointed his hand towards the door. 

“Why don’t you go dry yourself off, and I’ll meet you in sickbay?” Trip nodded and turned to leave, following the captain to the door before they parted ways. 

Trip raced along the corridors, unaware that he was leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him and not noticing the stares of crewmen who passed him. His only thoughts were of Malcolm. The journey to his quarters and the process of towelling off and slipping into the nearest pair of joggers to hand passed mostly in a blur. He tugged a shirt over his head, resigned himself to the fact his hair was still dripping wet, and headed straight for sickbay. He avoided the watery trail he had already left and told himself he would get someone on that, just as soon as they had this sorted. Keeping up the series of reminders to himself stopped him picturing sickbay and conjuring up all kinds of images of Malcolm that he desperately hoped weren’t true. 

A mix of terror and hope swirling in his chest as the doors of sickbay came into sight, and he was stuck between hoping for the best and fearing the worst. He could already see Jonathan stood beside a biobed, and members of the medical team bustling around. Bracing himself, he stepped inside.

He was greeted with a hectic scene, Malcolm was hunched on one side and struggling against Jonathan’s arms as the captain tried to hold him in place. The armoury officer was wriggling in the bed while Phlox was trying to attach something to his face, while at the other end of the bed an ensign was attempting to pin down his legs so that Liz Cutler could attend to the ankle that had been twisted out of place, and now looked swollen to twice it’s usual size. 

Liz didn’t look up, but the ensign nodded as Trip stepped closer. Jonathan’s eyes glanced over by way of greeting, but he was preoccupied with trying to calm Malcolm, who was still fighting against his hold, dazed and confused. Trip watched as Malcolm shuddered, more water trickling from his mouth and for a moment, Trip was reminded of his father as Jonathan gently lowered Malcolm back down and reached a hand up to wipe away the hair that had stuck to the lieutenant’s forehead. Trip tried to swallow the pang of jealousy at the sight, scolding himself for wanting to swap places with the captain. 

“You’re alright Malcolm, we’ve got you,” he said with his voice low and comforting. Phlox took the opportunity to slide whatever it was in his hands over Malcolm’s face, and when he stood back Trip could see the mask he had placed over Malcolm’s mouth, providing a steady stream of oxygen to his battered lungs. It seemed to calm him a little, and his writhing stopped enough that the ensign by his legs sighed with relief. Phlox’s eyes darted from the captain to the engineer and he gave them both a reassuring smile. 

“He seems to have expelled most of the water already, but this is to ensure he’s getting enough oxygen for now. I’ll leave it for now but,” he pointed towards the readouts in the computer about the bed. “It looks promising. If he’s stable over the next 12 hours or so, I daresay he’ll make a full recovery.” Trip let out the long breath he had been holding, and Jonathan smiled. 

“Malcolm’s one tough cookie,” the captain said, his hand still smoothing out Malcolm’s hair. “Aren’t you?” he asked, glancing down, only to find he had fallen asleep under him. Trip opened his mouth to speak, but Liz beat him to it. 

“He’ll be walking again in no time too,” she looked up and smiled. “Twisted and swollen, but nothing a bag of ice and some bed rest won’t fix.” Trip almost snorted, but managed to let out a short laugh instead. 

“Malcolm, bedrest?” At that, everyone in the room shared a chuckle, and Trip finally let himself breathe easy.

He was subjected to a few scans once Malcolm was safely tucked into bed, but Phlox had deemed him fit for duty. Even so, Jonathan had seen the way Trip’s eyes were continuously drawn to the occupant of the biobed across the room. As Trip left, he dropped a hand on his shoulder and walked out with him. 

“I’m sure T’Pol and the rest of the team can handle the last of the scans, Trip. Take the afternoon off.” Trip gave him a smile as they reached the turbolift and stepped inside. Finally able to slow down, Trip realised how much his legs were aching, and the uncomfortable trail of water that was dripping down his back. _I need a shower, then a nap_ he thought wistfully. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. 

“If you don’t mind cap’n?” The captain nodded, letting his hand drop as the doors opened and the two men parted ways.

* * *

 

An hour or so later, after having stood under the warm jets of his shower for at least twenty minutes, Trip strode into his room in another set of joggers, a towel in hand as he dried of his freshly washed hair. The fresh, citrusy smell was a nice change in comparison from the alien water that had smelt vaguely metallic. Lobbing the towel into the laundry basket across the room, he threw himself into bed. It was still early afternoon, so he didn’t feel particularly tired, but emotionally he felt exhausted. His heart in the past few hours had gone from a terrified thundering to a dreadful halt and back again, and the very thought of losing Malcolm had shaken him to the core.

For a while, he lay back, trying not to replay the scenario in his head. Each time he did, it ended in all manner of horrific ways; not being able to find Malcolm, having to drag his dead body from the water, Malcolm not waking up. Being responsible for Malcolm’s death. He swore under his breath and sat up again, suddenly full of nervous energy. He knew, logically, that Malcolm was fine, but the guilt at causing the man to fall in the first place was eating away at him. He stood up and began pacing. He hadn't meant to send Malcolm over the ledge, just make him jump. He hadn’t wanted him to almost drown because of it.

_'It makes no sense'_ , Trip thought. ' _Shouldn’t a guy from a Navy family know how to swim?'_ A shiver ran through him at the memory of Malcolm’s dead weight in his arms, the blind panic that had coursed through him. Malcolm was strong, so why hadn’t he just swum up to the surface? A competent swimmer, even with a busted ankle, would have found their way to the surface. Trip’s stomach twisted. 

_'He can’t swim? And he never told me?'_ The thought puzzled the engineer. Malcolm would often wind up rambling stories about his naval connections, stories about trips with his father and beach holidays. Wouldn’t an inability to swim have come up in one of those stories somehow? The thought kept bouncing around his mind and his heart was starting to ache. 

Deciding he was going to go mad pacing the same two foot of deck plating for hours, Trip slung on a top and left his room, walking with no real sense of direction. His mind was still trying to provide him with a way to fix the situation. By the time he realised where his feet were taking him, he had decided on rushing to sickbay the moment Malcolm woke up, and explaining everything straight away. If he had to sit and wait till the man woke up, then so be it. He would apologise, explain himself, and if Malcolm was still listening at that point, ask for forgiveness.

As he reached the frosted doors of the doctor’s domain, fears about the fallout were starting to form. Malcolm hating him, being mad at him, that he could take. He could take a punch, he probably deserved a slap for being such an idiot. 

Worse though was Malcolm being scared of him. He would never have said that the toughened armoury officer was capable of fear, but he had seen a spark of terror in his eyes in the split second before he had fallen. Worry threaded through Trip as he hurried through the doors, that maybe when Malcolm woke up, the friendship they had worked so hard to build would have been destroyed. He had already resigned himself to their friendship never being more than just that, but to think that he might have screwed up even the mot platonic of friendships made his heart ache. 

The lights of sickbay had been dimmed slightly, and it was quiet bar the quiet hum of the machines that were monitoring Malcolm. The steady pulse of his heartbeat calmed Trip somewhat, but the sight of his face still wrapped in tubes made the guilt increase tenfold. Without thinking, Trip found his feet guiding him towards the bed, till he stood by Malcolm’s head. 

Movement caught his eyes as he saw Phlox stand up from behind his desk, bringing a hypospray with him. He smiled gently and when he spoke it was calm and quiet. 

“I have very faith that Lieutenant Reed will make a full recovery Commander,” he said, pressing the tool to the base of Malcolm’s throat. He turned to face Trip, whose mouth still sat in a pathetic excuse for a smile. 

“You should get some rest too, unless there’s something else I can help you with,” he suggested, wandering back over to the desk to replace the spray. Trip didn’t move from his spot. 

“There’s no way I’m gettin’ rest now doc,” he sighed, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. Phlox looked at him, then back to Malcolm, and back again. Had it been Jon, Trip thought, he would have waggled his eyebrows a few times, but Phlox just nodded, understanding. 

“Then at least sit down commander, you’re welcome to one of the other beds.” Trip cracked a small smile at that and thanked the doctor. 

Without really taking his eyes off Malcolm, Trip jumped up on the nearest bed, arms crossed under his head. Though Malcolm might complain about sickbay, Trip found it almost relaxing, especially in the semi-darkness, when the only sounds were the hum of the ship and the occasional squeak of a critter. Malcolm’s steady heart rate provided comfort too, in the knowledge that his friend was still there, and in helping to even out Trip’s somewhat erratic breathing. He found himself matching pace with the gentle beeps, his breathing slowing and his eyelids drooping. Someone had cranked up the heating in sickbay because even in just his thin top, he was cocooned in warmth. It was wrapping around him, and soon enough everything started to fade away. He fought it for a while, not wanting to sleep but it came without warning, snatching him up before he’d even realise his eyes were closed. 

* * *

It was the soft murmur of voices that woke Trip, pulling him from his dreamless haze and back into reality gently. His ears woke first, catching words here and there, before his brain caught up and forces his eyes awake. He shot up, and the world spun for a second until his eyes found Malcolm and everything righted itself. He was sat up now, propped up with pillows behind him, blanket still tucked tightly around him. The mask on his face had been swapped for a single thin tube, the monitor above him now silent. Phlox stood beside him, running a scanner over him before pocketing the device.

At Trip’s movement, both patient and doctor turned to look at him. A sheepish smile on his face, Trip slid from the bed. 

“Didn’t mean t’fall asleep on ya there Phlox,” he said, not able to meet Malcolm’s eye yet. Phlox shook his head.

“Nonsense, you obviously needed it commander, you were both asleep for six hours.” At that, both men looked shocked. Phlox chuckled. 

“You could both do with some more, but I know what you’re like. Just nothing too strenuous,” he said, fixing Malcolm with a stern look before he stepped aside to return to his desk. “And that goes for you too, commander!” he called over his shoulder. Within seconds he was back behind his desk, leaving Malcolm and Trip alone in the silence. 

Taking a deep breath, Trip finally took the plunge and looked at Malcolm. He was tired still, that much was obvious. Dark shadows under his eyes highlighted his weary state, making his pale face look more drawn than usual. His shoulder still shook every once in a while with an uncontrollable shiver, and Trip was reminded painfully of their days following their adventure on shuttlepod one. 

He watched as Malcolm’s fingers scrambled for the blanket, tugging it up higher as the shudder ran through him. He winced.

“Look, Malcolm, I’m sorry-“ he began, but then Malcolm looked up at him with wide eyes and his heart caught in his throat. 

“For what, commander?” Trip’s face crumpled. Malcolm sighed softly, leaning back against the multiple pillows behind him. His eyes drooped suddenly and fell shut. “This wasn’t your fault.” The words were accompanied with a slight blush the blossomed across his cheeks. Trip shuffled, annoyed. Malcolm’s walls were going up, feigning indifference 

“No Malcolm, it wasn’t, I was bein’ unprofessional, and it almost-“ he heard his voice catch and hoped Malcolm hadn’t “-it almost killed you.”

Judging by the eye that Malcolm had cracked open, and the inquisitive eyebrows, his slip up had been duly noted. Malcolm let out another weary sigh, and a hand twitched, as thought to move, before he tried to pass it off as another shiver. 

“Commander, I knew most of the crew, you especially, considered today shore leave. I wasn’t exactly expecting professionalism.” Somehow, Trip thought that was supposed to be an insult, but it felt more like a reassurance. It didn’t work though, and he couldn’t help a little of his annoyance slipping into his voice.

“Look, Mal will you just shut up an’ listen? I’m trying to apologise.” Malcolm went to open his mouth, probably to tell him there was noting to apologise for, so Trip brought out the big guns. 

“Listen to me Lieutenant, that’s an order.” More often than not, Trip had said that in jest, but the serious tone of his voice was enough to keep Malcolm quiet for a few minutes. Watching as Malcolm pressed his lips together, Trip huffed. 

“Even if it was shore leave, I was still bein’ an idiot. I did somethin’ stupid Malcolm and for God’s sake you could have died. I’m so sorry… I just- I hope you can forgive me?” He realised too late how his voice had trailed off towards the end, all the commander in him dwindling down to just Trip. 

Malcolm was quiet for a moment, then turned his head to look at him. In the quiet, the hiss of oxygen and rustling sheets were deafening. Trip swallowed hard. When Malcolm spoke, his voice was rough and scratchy. 

“There’s nothing to forgive commander,” he said quietly, waving a hand before Trip could interrupt. “But if there were, yes of course.” Trip’s shoulders slumped. That might just be the best he was going to get, but it didn’t sit right with him. His hands balled up into fists by his side, and he found himself staring at a spot between his feet. Then, one of Malcolm’s pale hands reached out and caught his forearm. 

“You saved my life, Trip.” 

Somehow his voice had become even softer, barely louder than the hum of the ship beneath them. Trip struggled to register the words Malcolm had said because everything in that moment was centred on the cold hand wrapped around his wrist, the explosion of sparks that followed every gentle movement of fingers. He found it hard to drag his eyes away, but when he did he found Malcolm’s face flushed and his eyes cloudy. Perhaps the sedatives hadn’t fully worn off, because Malcolm left his hand there, his thumb moving in small circles over a spot on the inside of the engineers wrist. 

Trip’s throat was suddenly incredibly dry. His own voice became thick.

“Don’t make me do it again,” he managed. Malcolm couldn’t hide the smile that flitted across his face. Trip wasn’t entirely sure why but he found himself stepping closer to Malcolm’s bed. The air around them shifted, and so did Malcolm, twisting to face Trip better. There were definitely drugs in his system still, Trip thought, because Malcolm was struggling to keep his walls up. He tried to fix Trip with a stern look, but seemed to have forgotten they were almost holding hands. Except then he tightened his grip, squeezing Trip’s arm. It turned his brains to cotton wool, confusion flooding him.

“Malcolm?” His voice cracked again. 

“I thought I was dying,” Malcolm whispered. “You would have been the last thing I th-“ he stopped himself, but Trip saw the blush creep back across his face. Ridiculous hope shot through him as his mind made a sudden leap. He had already prepared himself to have ruined their friendship, why not tempt fate? He leant forward, his free arm coming to prop him up on the pillows above Malcolm’s head. Stormy grey eyes found his and had either man cared to look, there was an interesting spike in the heart rate displayed above them, but as it was, only Phlox saw. The doctor smiled to himself before turning away to give the two a moment of privacy.

Malcolm looked up and Trip stared right back down at him. Malcolm looked ready to say something, but instead he bit down on his lip every so gently that Trip had to stop himself from leaning forward to do the same. Instead he cocked his head to one side and ever the gentleman asked.

“Would you mind if I kissed you right now?” 

The second before Malcolm answered was possibly one of the most terrifying of his life. Malcolm run his tongue across his bottom lip and Trip’s insides flipped. 

“I think I’d rather like that,” Malcolm said, lips finally pulling up into a smile. Trip’s heart soared and it took so much restraint to not throw himself at the man in the bed, but he slowed down, moving closer to catch Malcolm’s lips in a gentle kiss. All thoughts were lost in the onslaught of emotion that rocked him, his only feeling that of Malcolm’s chapped lips against his own, warm breath on his face and the hand on his wrist that held him as though there was nothing else in the galaxy. 

Another hand found it’s way to his shoulder, ran along his neck and tangled itself in his hair. For a man only just recovering from a near death experience, Malcolm still had enough strength to pull Trip closer, prompting a shocked noise to escape the engineers lips. Malcolm laughed at it, a deep sound that rumbled across Trip’s lips, making them tingle. Trip smirked as they broke apart, the wooly feeling in his head starting to lift into something lighter, a warm kind of happiness that dispelled the niggling doubts he had had. 

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that for a long time,” he admitted, the smirk stretching into a grin. Malcolm’s head fell back against the pillows and he smiled back.

“That’s funny, so have I.” He pulled Trip’s hand up, bringing it to his chest so he could entwine their fingers. Trip could feel his steady heart beat through the thin gown. Though a lazy grin had found its way onto Malcolm’s face, his eyelids were beginning to droop, his movements slowing. Trip chuckled, lifting Malcolm’s fingers to press a kiss to them. 

“You should get some sleep Mal,” he murmured, the nickname slipping out before he realised it. Any other time, and Malcolm probably would have sighed indignantly at it, but he just laughed. 

“I’ve been sleeping all day, it seems a shame to do it again now.” It was Trip’s turn to blush now, pink spreading across his cheeks. He ran the back of his hand across Malcolm’s cheek, mindful of the tube running across it. 

“I’ll be right here when you wake up, promise.”

Malcolm nodded, stifling a yawn. Trip watched as his eyes slipped shut, his breathing evening out as he quickly fell into a peaceful slumber. He smiled, watching as Malcolm relaxed, falling deeper into the pile of cushions. Keeping their hands interlaced, Trip carefully pulled the sheet up with the other, pulling it up across Malcolm’s chest. Then he rested his elbows on the bed and simply watched.

There would be time, he though, tomorrow to talk about what had happened, both on the planet and in sickbay. For now though, they could relax. The lights of the ship were beginning to dim as the night shift began, the whole ship becoming quieter as evening set in. The tension that had been pulling at his muscles and pinching at his head had dissipated, the worry gone too. Instead, it was pure happiness filling him, incomprehensible joy at the fact their friendship was not only safe, but that it was now so much more than he could ever have expected. This, he thought, was what true happiness felt like.

A smile on his face, Trip leant forward and pressed a kiss to Malcolm’s temple.

“Sweet dreams Malcolm, sweet dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still really shit at endings sorry lol this whoel thing was kinda crappy but yolo whatevers
> 
> thanks for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> oh noOooooOO....
> 
> but also don't worry! I have a few ideas for how I could continue this, two very different endings, so I think I might write both - once they're up you can pick what ending you like best. For now though, I hope you enjoyed some part of this - thanks for reading :D
> 
> EDIT: okay, so I have settled on an ending, and I wanted to leave this open as a series for all the other times I may wish to cause Mal suffering, so like, no death, just suffering


End file.
